Wellesley Wives (New England Trilogy) (38 page)

Rosie nodded. She was ready for a break.

He took off for the bar and soon came back with her large black coffee and his small double espresso, along with a few enormous Danish pastries.

“Think I’ll skip that.” Rosie was thinking, as always, about the calories.

“All the more for me,” he said and laughed. “I need the sugar hit.”

After his coffee and the pastries, which he polished off effortlessly, Marcus went for a swim. He was the only swimmer in the pool, and Rosie checked if anybody was watching him. There was. Two different women heard the small splash of his near-perfect dive and looked to see who would surface. Rosie didn’t know whether to feel proud of her man or threatened by the onlookers. Usually, she could sit back and smile, safe in the knowledge that they could look all they wanted, but he was hers. Here, all bets were off. This was all too weird.

“Be an ostrich,” Rosie reminded herself. “Just let all of this flow over you,” she’d whispered, and then she pretended to read.

Marcus seemed oblivious to it all when he came back to her and splashed her with his wet hair. She squealed and complained, but he laughed it off. Then she risked another glance at Marcus’s earlier admirers. One looked away when she caught Rosie’s eye, and the other had already gone back to her book. For that moment, Marcus was hers. But just for that moment. She’d been nervous about how they would be around each other after his late-night fun, but it appeared that they were just the same as ever.

He asked her about her book, and Rosie raved about it. Then he fell asleep. She always thought that sleep was the sign of a clear conscience, but how could that possibly be the case? She’d sat there with her nerves in ribbons, terrified she might be propositioned while he—the philanderer— just slept. It was infuriating.

“Be an ostrich,” she’d repeated. “Just don’t look up.”

And that’s how they spent the first morning of their vacation together at Broader Horizons.

The problem was that by lunchtime Rosie was hungry. She also needed the restroom. She could call a waiter over to get her a menu. There was a little flag at the top of her lounge chair. She’d seen them before. All she had to do was raise it and somebody would come to take her order soon enough. But whether she liked it or not, she was going to have to get to a bathroom. Nobody could do that for her.

Waking Marcus was futile. He would laugh at her. By then the area around the pool was fairly busy. Most of the lounge chairs were full, and some party people had already started on the cocktails. She saw glasses of Buck’s fizz heading to a table and two bloody mary cocktails to another. If things had been quiet and hung over in the morning, they were definitely getting the buzz going by early afternoon. She had to stop psyching herself out and get up the nerve to walk to the restrooms.

After taking a last reassuring look at her sleeping husband, she got up. She was wearing a nice pink bikini, but she had it covered with a little cotton pool dress because she didn’t want to give anyone the idea she was looking for attention, or worse still—action. Just as she’d planned, she kept on her wide-brim hat and enormous dark sunglasses. Her plan was to look good, but aloof. Most of the women were in tiny bikinis or even topless, so she was pretty confident the message she was sending was loud and clear: don’t come near me. Nobody did.

Rosie made it to the restroom without being asked for sex. When she came out, still armed with her hat and sunglasses, she was feeling a little braver and wandered around the lobby. It was broad daylight and not too threatening. She couldn’t see anybody doing anything too outrageous. In fact, outside of the swinging, it looked like any regular vacation resort on an exquisite beach with aquamarine water. Pity to miss all that out of fear.

Rosie wondered if she would be brave enough to go down to the water’s edge. At night, things definitely got a little wilder, so now was the time to explore. At least she could scream if someone came at her and just like the night before, if she was approached, she could always say no. “Because no means no,” she said to herself.

“It sure does.” Her range of vision was impaired by the wide-brimmed hat, and she’d had no idea there was a person standing anywhere near her. She swung around to see who it was.

A man with sandy blond hair and a broad smile, stood there looking at her. She guessed he was about forty years old.

“Excuse me. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just heard you say, ‘no means no,’ so I’m guessing you’re in the ‘no’ club,” he said, his smile never faltering.

“The what?”

“Let me guess. This is your first time at one of these ‘booty camps.’ You don’t really want to be here, but your husband, who you clearly adore, does, and you’re scared to death.” Then he stopped and looked at her. “Am I right?”

She smiled and nodded. “You got all that just from, ‘no means no’?”

He laughed. “Believe me, it’s not hard to guess. All you’re missing is a big book to use as a weapon if the need arises.”

Rosie looked sheepish. “It’s back at my lounge chair.”

He put out his hand. “My name is Sam. Sam Sinnott. I’m not making a move on you. I’m just saying hello.”

Rosie was relieved to meet a “normal” person. “Hi.” She shook his hand. “I’m Rosie Kelly. My husband is out there sound asleep, and thank you for not making a move on me.”

“You’d be amazed how many of us are here. ‘No people,’ I mean.”

“What did you call it? The No Club?”

“Oh yes.” He nodded. We’re an exclusive club, a bit like the resistance in World War II. We’re very secret, but basically we’re the visitors at Broader Horizons who would rather say no.”

“Do you meet in secret to have clandestine chats?” She laughed.

“Well, I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see.”

It was reassuring that she wasn’t alone.

They walked out toward the pool together. “This is my fifth time at this game. My wife’s a little younger than me and she’s, shall we say, broad-minded. She’s my second wife, and she doesn’t want kids. She just likes to party. Anyway, she told me early into our relationship that she wanted an open marriage, so we come to Broader Horizons once a year.”

“Wow. But you don’t seem to like it.”

Sam shook his head. “I really did try to get into it the first time, but I don’t know. What can I say? I couldn’t get my head around it. I’m Jewish. I had a strong mother, and I just can’t go around with a load of women and then head home like it’s all normal. I let Cindy do what she likes, and now I just look the other way.”

Rosie laughed. “I don’t think it has anything to do with being Jewish. I started out Roman Catholic, so we’re pretty big on guilt, too. But I do agree with you about not being able to come to terms with it.”

They walked out into the super-bright midday sun and stopped. “Look,” he said, “I’m really not making a pass at you, but my wife is . . . otherwise engaged. Would you like to join me for lunch at the beach hut restaurant?” He looked so serious and sincere that Rosie didn’t feel in any way threatened by him. She looked over to where her man was still out cold. He obviously hadn’t had any sleep the night before.

“Sounds great. I’m starving and that’s my husband over there.” She pointed to a sleeping Marcus. “So I’d love the company.”

They headed away from the boardwalk and onto the white sand of the beach. Just to the right was a smaller building with the same thatched roof as the main restaurant. Rosie hadn’t even seen the beach hut restaurant before. There were seven square tables, so it wouldn’t sit any more than thirty at once. Perfect, she thought. They were right on the beach, so they had an unobstructed view of the beautiful crystal clear water. The waves were small today, and white sails glided by in the distance.

“This place is so beautiful,” she said, as they took their seats and were given menus.

“Isn’t it? I’ve been to the Broader Horizons in St. Lucia and in Italy, but this has the nicest view.”

“Even better than St. Lucia?” Rosie removed her “suit of armor”—the hat and sunglasses.

“That was a nicer complex, but look at that sea. It just doesn’t get better than this.”

Now that they were sitting opposite each other, Rosie noticed Sam did look a little older than she’d first thought, perhaps in his late forties. But he was still a nice-looking man. His pale-blue eyes sparkled, and his tan was deep mahogany. He wore a white linen shirt and pants. If she had to guess, she would have assumed he was into multiple partners. Looks could be deceiving.

“So,” she said, “do you think there are many people here in The No Club, or are we a rare breed?”

Sam shook his head. “I think there are a great many of us. In fact, I would go so far as to say almost half would start out saying no.” Then he shrugged. “Of course, I think once they’re here, quite a few might be convinced to give it a go. I guess that was the case with me a few years back, but now I’m certain I’m a ‘no’ kinda guy.”

“Half the guests? That can’t be.”

His face took on an air of seriousness again. “Do you mind if I order a bottle of wine?

The day was looking up. “What a wonderful idea.”

“Red or white?” he asked. “Although I should tell you all they serve in this restaurant is fish and things from the sea.”

“White wine is perfect, please,” she said.

After ordering their wine, Sam said, “The way I see it is that couples end up here because one person in the relationship is into it. Sometimes there’s two, but one is usually the pusher and the other follower. That’s what I’ve come to notice over the years. For example, your husband pushed you into this vacation, and you caved in the end.”

Rosie blushed, but the sun was so bright she hoped it wasn’t too obvious. “There was a time I was as outgoing and adventurous but not anymore.”

“You sure you’re not Jewish?” He smiled, and she laughed.

“Don’t worry. You really don’t have to do anything you don’t want to here. For what it’s worth, from my experience, Cindy goes wild while we’re away, and then it’s everything back to the usual when we get home. Our marriage is sound and loving. It’s just that she has to let off steam once or twice a year, and then she’s back to normal.”

“Normal?”

“Does that sound strange? What I mean is, we have a normal, monogamous marriage outside of these crazy vacations.”

The wine waiter arrived and poured some into Sam’s glass for him to test. He smiled a thank you, swirled, sniffed, and sipped the wine just like her father used to. He had a certain appeal, and he was funny, too. Maybe this vacation wasn’t going to be totally horrendous if she could just keep Sam company while their respective partners “let off steam,” as he put it.

Sam nodded and the waiter poured.

“So, tell me about you, Rosie Kelly.” Sam smiled at her and took a sip of cool white wine. “Where are you from?”

“I live in a town called Weston, just outside Boston. Marcus is a pilot, and we have a little girl. Her name is Natasha. She’s five.”

“You have a child?” He looked surprised. “Forgive me, but for some reason I assumed you were too young or too thin or something. I don’t know why, I just got the idea that you hadn’t started a family yet.”

She was flattered but tried to ignore his compliments. “Probably because we’re here. It’s not a family resort.”

“I have two daughters with my first wife, and they’re in their teens now. That’s why I’m fine with Cindy not wanting kids. Children are very expensive. I have college tuition coming down the track soon.” He took a large gulp of wine as if he needed fortifying just thinking of the school fees.

“What about you? Where do you live?” she asked.

“I’m a Miami man now, although I was born and raised in the U.K.” He shrugged. “What can I say? I love the Florida sun.”

“That explains the deep tan.”

“Yep.” He laughed. “I don’t know how you can live in the snow. Do you have family there?”

“My dad passed away a few months ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Now it was her turn to gulp the wine. “Thank you. I tried to use it as an excuse not to come here, but Marcus said it would be a great escape.”

Sam nodded sympathetically. “How long are you here for?”

“We only got here yesterday. We’re here until next Sunday.”

Sam smiled again. He had a bright smile. His teeth might have been a little too white, but maybe that was just the deep tan making them look whiter than they were. Either way, she liked his constant smile.

“We’re also here until next Sunday, so you and I can keep each other company if you like, while the others get up to . . . whatever. What do you think?” He raised his glass. “Cheers, Rosie.”

Rosie was delighted to have an ally in this hazardous terrain. She raised her glass, too. “Cheers.”

Lunch turned out to be fantastic. Her swordfish steak was impossibly fresh, and he said his lobster was delicious, too. The Caribbean green salads were crisp and light with all sorts of bonuses like strawberries and blueberries. Rosie loved it. She didn’t really want to part company with him after their lunch and what turned out to be two bottles of wine, but she thought she’d better head back to see if her husband was looking for her. Sam said he understood and gave her his phone number so she could call him any time. Other than that, he said he’d see her around the pool and teased her that she would be impossible to miss with her hat and glasses. The thing she liked most about him was his sense of humor. He made her laugh, and she didn’t feel threatened. It would be easy to have a friend like him to hang around with for the week while Marcus partied.

When she got back, Marcus was gone and with two bottles of wine in her system, Rosie was happy to nod off in the sun for a little while. When he came back later in the day, he stroked her hair and said, “Hey, babe. When did you get back?”

“Oh, hey.” She yawned and stretched.

“Are you wearing sunscreen? You’re looking a little red.”

This was enough to wake her up. “Oh, I completely forgot,” she said. “I just came back and you weren’t here, so I decided to take a nap. What time is it?”

“It’s vacation time,” Marcus said, dismissing her concerns. “We don’t wear watches here.”